The Moon None the Wiser
by piper78
Summary: This is a submission for Bethyl Holidays Fest on Tumblr from ultimatebethylficlist. I had this already started and then saw it fit perfectly with the Cat prompt.


Daryl had no idea why he was at the town's only bar tonight of all nights. Just a bunch of the same people getting shitfaced drunk. Only tonight, some of them were in costume because, unfortunately, it was Halloween.

Merle went to take a piss and Daryl fought his way to the bar. It was packed. A sea of nameless faces. Sure, he knew most of the people there, it was questionable whether he actually wanted to socialize with any of them.

Nope, he had no idea why he's there.

He nodded at the bartender, Shane, and waited. Shane knew his order, Daryl didn't need to tell him. As he walked past on the other side of the bar, he set a cold bottle of Budweiser in front of Daryl without a word. He had treated him on the cool side since Daryl had slept with Shane's sister. Oh well. It wasn't any skin off his nose. It's not like they were close friends and it's not like she wasn't the one to instigate it.

Daryl palmed his beer and turning his back to the bar, leaned against it while watching the crowd of people. Most were milling around talking loudly over the live band.

He had no idea why he was there, he already had a headache brewing across his forehead.

Except... he _did_ know why he was there. He was there because Beth Greene was sure to be there.

He scanned the crowd and quickly spotted her. He eyed her from top to bottom. She was wearing knee-high, black, spiked high heeled boots. A black leather mini skirt cut just below her ass, a skin-tight black crop top showing off a few inches of midriff. Tucked in her long wavy blonde hair was a headband with cat ears protruding from the top.

She stood with her normal clique of people. The only ones of the group he knew were her best friend Amy and her brother, Shawn. He only recognized the others by face, not by name, because he'd seen them with her numerous times.

There was always a guy trailing after Beth. Tonight was no different. A dopey looking kid with a cowboy hat and a pair of fake leather shitkickers kept touching her elbow or grabbing her hand or putting an arm around her shoulders. Letting everyone know she was there with him.

She was never serious about whichever loser she was with. According to Beth, they just didn't keep her interest or they weren't her type. She complained that all they were about was getting laid and getting drunk. She made it a point to say how she liked getting lit just as much as the next twenty-three almost twenty-four year old and sex was fun, but she got bored easily.

This is where he, rugged mumbly voiced, would ask just who her type was. And she'd smile and sarcastically say, "You, ya' dummy".

His throat would clench shut then and he'd look away because looking in her soft eyes felt too real for him. It was stupid. _He_ was stupid. He needed to put a stop to it. Whatever _it_ was. He just couldn't seem to quit her no matter how much he knew he should.

"Where's my beer?" Merle asked, interrupted Daryl's staring.

He coughed, made like he wasn't staring and shrugged a shoulder.

"Guess I'll just order it myself so you don't have to talk to Shane. Friggin' heaven forbid."

Daryl had tuned him out already, eyes back on Beth. This time she must have felt his stare because she looked directly at him. A small sexy smile playing on her bright red lipstick painted lips.

He sent her a cool nod in return. He wished he could look away, but damn. She looked good. Too good. That idiot hanging on her needed to back the fuck off, she obviously wasn't interested and it didn't take a genius to realize it.

Some time passed, he made small talk when he had to and listened to Merle drone on about finding a piece of ass for the night. And because he was stupid and his pride wouldn't allow him to go to her, eventually Beth made her way over to where he had planted himself at the end of the bar.

Squeezing herself in between and Daryl and another guy, she ignored him as she talked with Shane before ordering a shot of tequila. When he handed her the shot, she kicked it back like it was water.

Finally, she acknowledged Daryl, turning her body towards him. She put a hand on her hip, sure to show herself off. She would no doubt have Daryl's mouth watering.

"I see you really got into the spirit of things," She teased, yanking on the opening flap of his leather cut. He eyed her hand where it stayed on his vest. No one touched his vest. No one. Well, except maybe for Beth.

"Did you dress up like a pissed off biker dude?" She asked, a teasing smirk turning up a corner of her mouth. She had to lean in to be heard and it didn't go unnoticed when her breasts pressed against his forearm. "'Cause if you did, you hit the nail on the head."

She laughed, a little too delighted with herself. He couldn't help the grin that spread his lips, though. She was adorable even when she was half drunk and being annoying as hell.

"And just what you supposed to be? A cat?" He asked, feeling like he was failing miserably at the fun banter stuff she liked so much.

"Catwoman, actually."

"Uh huh," he nodded, looking her up and down again. Whatever the hell she was, it was working for him. "And who's the dweeb?"

"Dweeb?" She asked, playing dumb. They both knew exactly who he was referring to.

"The cowboy or whatever he's supposed to be," he said, motioning to Shane for another beer.

"Oh, his name is Zach. He's...nice," she said deciding that was a safe enough word.

"How many of those you had tonight?" He asked abruptly changing the subject, motioning to the beer she was drinking from. It was already half gone.

"Well, I can still see straight so, not near enough," she giggled.

"You know if you take it easy on those you won't be hungover in the mornin'," he stated the obvious.

"You my chaperone now, Mr. Dixon?" She asked, leaning into him. A little bit so she could be heard, a little bit so she could touch him. Her hand circling his flannel covered bicep.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just drink lots of water." Leaning an elbow on the bar he shifted to face her. "Besides, I know you can take care of yo'self."

She liked that. She hated it when people saw her as a young girl who needed to be taken care of. She's always been independent. Never relying on others to fix her problems and never expecting the easy way out of things.

"I'll have you know I'm a nurse now, so..." She let the sentence drop. Really she just wanted to tell him she finally graduated.

Not that he wasn't paying attention before but this really got his attention. "You are?" He asked, unable to keep the smile off his face and the excitement out of his voice. Around others, he played it cool because he really didn't care much for people in general. He had a small circle that he was fiercely loyal to, everyone else could jump ship for all he cared. Beth was in that small circle.

"Yep. Passed the exam last week. Got a job interview at Presbyterian General next week."

"That's great, Beth. I knew you'd do it."

She was the smartest person he knew. She worked damn hard to put herself through nursing school. It took a bit longer having to work full time and go to school part-time, but she did it.

Her mood turned momentarily somber. "You did?"

"Hell yeah!" Without worrying there were a hundred pairs of eyes that may or may not be watching, he put his arms around her, pulling her into him. "Proud of you girl," he said into her ear.

She reciprocated, her arms going under the vest and around his waist. Rested her head on his shoulder. He felt himself blush. He was proud of her? Well, yes he was but he'd never thought he'd say it out loud. Must be the alcohol, he surmised even though he only had a beer and a half at this point. He held on a few seconds longer before releasing her. She gave him one last squeeze around the ribs and pulled back.

"Thanks, Daryl," she said so quietly if he wasn't standing so close to her, he wouldn't have heard it. She gave him a chaste kiss on his whiskered face.

Feeling awkward with the warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling in his chest, he cleared his throat. "What are you doin' in this shithole anyway?" He asked. It was a running joke with them. Different versions of _What's a girl like you doing in a place like this_.

Beth leaned in, an inch from his lips. "I came here so you'd come for me," she purred. Instantly his dick went hard.

Without another word, she walked away. He watched her strut all the way back to her table and he was left at the bar. In a room full of people he felt annoyingly alone.

The evening went on and as it did, Merle got more drunk. Normally he'd match Merle beer for beer, shot for shot, but not tonight. He wasn't in the mood. He couldn't help but notice Beth's friend, Zach, was getting more drunk and more handsy. It also didn't escape him that Beth didn't seem to be digging it. She kept sidestepping his grasp, dodging his sloppy drunk, open-mouthed kisses.

She may be smiling, only the smile didn't reach her eyes. She could handle herself, she told him so many times and proved it many more times. It still irked him that Zach won't take a hint and back the fuck off.

"What?" Merle asked, following Daryl's gaze to where it landed on Zach attempting to force Beth into yet another embrace. She kept pushing him off, even shoving at his shoulder once when he grabbed at her ass.

"He fuckin' with your girl?" Merle asked.

Daryl sent him a quick look, trying to decide whether or not he should correct Merle that no, she wasn't his girl. It would be pointless though, Merle knew what was up, how things were between them. How Daryl felt about her. How they went about their own lives, always ending up with each other at some point or another.

"Well, come on, let's do somethin' 'bout it," Merle suggested, always itching for a fight.

"Na'," Daryl said, grasping his brother by the elbow. "She'd be pissed if I did."

"Well, you don't have to," Merle said, with a mischievous shit-eating grin. "Follow my lead, baby brother."

_Why not?_ Daryl thought. He hated seeing this guy paw all over Beth and he wanted to leave, so he considered this a win/win. Beat some ass, be home and in bed in less than an hour. Or he'd be with Beth, he'd count that as an extra win. Without another word, he and Merle split off. Merle went left, Daryl went right. Merle went to speak with Shawn who was standing in close proximity to Zach and Daryl went to talk with someone else standing behind Zach, sandwiching him between them.

A moment later, a quick jerk of Daryl's elbow jabbing into Zach's right arm had him splashing the froufrou pansy drink he'd been holding right onto Merle's shirt. Merle snickered a split second before shoving Zach.

"What the fuck, man. Watch what the fuck yer doin'," he yelled, getting in Zach's face.

Daryl didn't catch who threw the first punch, most likely Merle, but quickly multiple people were punching, kicking and hollering. Daryl turned his back on the chaos and started for the door. Without looking behind him, he put a hand out a few inches from his side and, just as he knew it would, a soft, smaller hand slid into his.

He walked out of the bar with Beth and went straight for his truck. Silently he unlocked the passenger side and she slid up and into the cab. Once they were racing out of the parking lot Beth looked over at him, the street lights blinking in the cab as they sped down the road. She said, "You and Merle did that on purpose."

Daryl did his signature shoulder roll. "Maybe."

Her response was to bark out a laugh and roll her eyes. Zach was being a jerk, to put it mildly. She wasn't so sure getting his ass beat was a fair punishment. Then she looked over at Daryl, silhouetted in the darkness and she practically forgot Zach's name.

Daryl drove out of town to a secluded spot down a dirt road that dead-ended at a field of wheat. It was their spot. He lived with Merle and refused to take her back to that shithole. She lived with her parents on the family farm. That left sneaking around like a couple of teenagers. In the barn at the farm or when he dared to sneak in her bedroom at night. Or the occasional hotel room. Mostly, though, they ended up here.

He preferred this spot over all the others. Sometimes if the weather was bad, they stayed inside the truck. A lot of times they'd spread a blanket out on the ground at the edge of the field, the stars and moon none the wiser as to what they'd do to each other under the night's sky.

Tonight, as soon as he put the truck in park and killed the engine, they met in the middle of the bench seat. Beth straddled his lap, pulling his vest off, throwing it to the side, shoving at the buttons of his flannel shirt, not caring if one or two popped off. His mouth ravished hers, teeth scraping against lips, tongue's dancing together. His hands squeezing the mounds of her breasts until she moaned against his mouth.

Surprising both of them, he pulled back. He wanted this. Just like he wanted her any other time. Especially in those boots, but…

"Beth," he paused, swallowed hard, jawbones jutting as he ground his back teeth.

She must have read his sudden serious mood because she slid off his lap. Breathing heavily, she asked, "What?" She waited for a second, then two. "You're kinda' scaring me." She smiled nervously, affectionately brushing the shaggy hair from his eyes.

It wasn't like him to be so serious. Well, he was a serious man, just not like this. He looked at her piercingly. His blue eyes, darkened by the cloudy night, sent a shiver down her spine, wiping that smile from her lips.

"We should get married," he blurted.

There. He said it. It was out in the universe and he very well couldn't take it back. Couldn't joke it away.

A couple of things he suspected might happen next. She'd laugh her ass off or she'd think he was crazy, which he was beginning to think he was, in fact, losing it. And then she'd ditch him. He wouldn't blame her if she did. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't be devastated.

Something strange happened next. She did none of the things he expected. Through the dim glow of the trucks dome light, she stared at him with a look on her face he couldn't read.

Clearing the lump in his throat, he hurried on. "I ain't the dating type a' guy. You know that. The way I figure it, we've spent enough time with each other. Hell, I've known you since you was what? Five?"

Beth held her breath. "Seven. You just moved into the neighborhood the summer I turned seven. You were eleven and I followed you and Shawn around like a lost puppy."

"That's right." He smiled at the memory. Seriousness settled on his face again. "We _know_ each other, Beth. I know you better than any of those pricks you go out with." He let that sink in, then said, "Ain't you tired?"

"Tired of what?" She asked though she had a good idea of what he meant.

"Tired of this," he gestured from himself to her, to the general direction of the bar, to the interior of the truck. "I want you. I've wanted you since you was fifteen fuckin years old. I've gone about my life hoping the feeling would go away. I nailed every woman that would let me just tryin' to escape that feeling. But the problem is, none of those women were you. Just hooking up with you ain't cutting it for me anymore. I want more." He wasn't yelling. Not quite. His voice was raised and he enunciated each word carefully.

Daryl liked to act like he had only two emotions. Ambivalence and anger. She knew better. There was more to Daryl Dixon than meets the eye. He was caring for the few people he let into his life. She always felt special being one of those few people.

They'd been hooking up for a couple of years now. It always started the same way. Alcohol. Laughs. The promise of having a good time, to blow off some steam. When they would part ways, a hollowness echoed in her chest. She longed for his touch seconds after he let go. No one touched her the way he did. No one made her feel like he did. She couldn't wait for the next time they would be together. And it wasn't only about sex. Occasionally they'd hang out, in a group or just the two of them, and she could be herself. Makeup or no makeup. Nice clothes or just a tank top and shorts. Unlike so many other people, he accepted her for who she was. Mostly, she loved him since she was seven and lied to herself about it for just as long.

She had no idea he felt this way about her.

Well. That was a lie. There were times when they'd be going at it, rough and hard, he'd be buried deep inside of her, when suddenly he'd slow to a stop, barely moving. He'd look at her in such a way it'd bring unexpected tears to her eyes. He'd touch her gently, kiss her with serene adoration. He'd whisper softly in her ear. Tell her she was beautiful, something she still didn't believe. The way he'd say it, though, had her almost believing it.

"If you give me a chance I'll live the rest of my life trying to make you happy." He'd seen her with one too many guys treating her the wrong way. Not that having random sex with her was much better. She deserved better. He wanted to give her better.

"Daryl, have you lost your mind?" She asked, breaking some of the tension.

He chuckled, "Yeah, maybe. You'll get that job at the hospital, I know you will because they'd be stupid not to hire you and I'll keep working at the machine shop. We'll find a place to live, I heard Rick's rental house is empty. We'll work and we'll save up and we'll buy a house. We'll have kids." He paused, "What do ya' say? Wanna' be my wife?"

He leaned in, kissing her gently, running his palm along her cheek, his thumb wrapping around her chin. His hand felt so good against her skin. Roughened calluses against smoothed silk.

Turning into his hand, she kissed the center of his palm. She took that hand in her own, focusing on their intertwined fingers. His heart momentarily fell. The seconds ticked by all too slowly.

Then an incredible thing happened. She smiled her thousand-watt smile, one reserved just for him and she said, "Yes. Yes, I will marry you."

"You serious?" He asked. He hadn't allowed himself to think about what he'd do if she said no. At the same time, he wasn't expecting her to say yes.

She nodded, straddled his lap once again, placing kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his neck. "When? When you do want to get married?" Her words muffled against his skin.

He grasped the sides of her face, stilling her. "How 'bout now, baby? Atlanta has a twenty-four hour Chappel."

She laughed, loud and musically. "Alright. Let's go!"

* * *

**Well, that was fun! Hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for reading. **

**"I came here so you'd come for me", is a quote from the Halsey song Haunting.**


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